I Think I Know You
by Eostra
Summary: Inuyasha always figured that fate had a serious grudge against him. It's just confirmed when his mother shows up in the worst place imaginable. KagInu, slight wrongness, generally silly, reincarnation!fic.


Disclaimer: I don't own Inuyasha -- I'm just stealing the characters for my own sinister purposes.

**Note: **This fic is all in good fun -- try not to take it too seriously. And beware my twisted sense of humour. And crocodiles, cause those bite. Also, I'll soon be switching my name over to "Eostra" to try to cut down on the whole multiple net aliases thing... so don't be alarmed, there's no need to call Scotland Yard or anything.

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I Think I Know You

_Written by: Eostra/Cyan I'd_

_Betas: Numisma & Alex

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_

To be honest, he knew it from the very first time he laid eyes on her. That small, half-formed smile, the crinkles at the corners of her eyes, the way the light played in her hair – all of it was so terrifyingly familiar. Of course he'd brushed it off as some sort of trick of the eye, a side effect of spending the last fifty years of your life in a magical suspended animation. The truth of the matter was that he just didn't _want_ it to be true. Still reeling and stumbling over the bloody mess of Kikyou's betrayal, he didn't need yet another loss he'd suffered to be shoved right in his face – salt in the wound, as they say.

Later, he shrugged his good shoulder (because he was _Inuyasha_ – inevitably, there was always a fight, and undoubtedly, he was always horrendously mutilated during it) and passed it off as coincidence. So she walked the same way (delicate, measured) – who cared? So her smiles were every bit as sweet – wasn't that the standard? So what if she was unnaturally comfortable with him and everything he represented – it could happen. It meant nothing.

In reality, he was head-over-heels in love with a loud, innocent and pure scandalously-clad schoolgirl with a penchant for medieval weaponry and a masochistic streak a mile wide when it came to puppies. Because, if he was, in fact, in love with this mad madam from present day Japan, then her sweet and loving mother could not, would not possibly be the reincarnation of his own long-lost parent. Absolutely no way. Not possible.

It would be like dating his sister. Half-sister. So it would be like dating Sesshoumaru, the thought of which had Inuyasha shuddering for days (including one entertaining incident in which the group met up with said vengeful older half-brother, who commented innocently that he wanted little brother on his knees before him, which conjured far more incestuous mental images than the poor hanyou had ever thought he'd suffer in a single lifetime).

So, the niggling notion that perhaps there was more to this reincarnation business than it seemed was pushed to the dusty far corners of his mind, where it rightly belonged – shelved right next to 'common sense', 'tact' and 'social etiquette', in fact. He should have known that karma had it out for him, though. Every problem he ever tried to run from was shoved rudely in his face, a wake-up call that someone with a lot of power was abusing terribly to bring him to his knees.

They reached critical mass the day of a typical fight – which meant that Inuyasha was limping and bleeding all over the place, Kagome was wavering between righteous fury and a gnawing worry, and one of Sango or Miroku was injured while the other watched carefully for any sign of imminent death due to injuries. Kagome decided that it would be a Good Idea to go to her time for a little bit to stock up on supplies. She also deemed it a Wise Plan to drag Inuyasha along with her – the dear boy had this troublesome tendency to get attacked and maimed by their enemies whenever she was 'out of town'. So it was that Sango and Miroku rested in Kaede's village with Shippou while Kagome dragged Inuyasha into her own home.

"Tadaima!" she hollered, one deceptively slender hand fisted in the rough red of Inuyasha's clothes. She dropped her bulging bag by the door and guided the dog-eared boy towards their kitchen where she'd heard her mother's answering call.

"Are you hungry, Kagome-chan? I made plenty, grab a seat," her mother said, all smiles and warmth. Through his haze of pain and slight feverish delirium, Inuyasha tried to catch a glimpse of the ghost he saw in this mother's face every time he visited this strange Toh-kyou place. To his immense relief, he saw none. She was nothing but warmth and kindness, brown eyes and wavy hair, love and caring and – oh, wait, there it was. The light just wasn't hitting her right before.

"You too, Inuyasha."

He nodded numbly and shuffled to the chair Kagome pointed at, missing her warning glare to behave entirely. Her mother put the dishes in front of them, careful with the hot plates.

"It'll just be us three, since the boys are out tonight," Higurashi told them, taking a seat herself. Inuyasha swallowed his first bite of food thickly, trying to look anywhere but her face. He resolved to blatantly ignore the older woman, in the vain hope that it would make his troubles go away. Kagome remained oblivious, soaking up the perks and quirks of modern living after spending such a long spell in the feudal times.

"Inuyasha, it's too bad that you came tonight – Souta rarely gets to see you," Mama said pleasantly, doing her best to play hostess and strike up friendly conversation. Inuyasha thought about pointing out that he didn't _plan_ to battle a Shikon-high psychotic detachment of his mortal nemesis, but opted for cursing the gods instead. Several gods, in fact, from all the faiths that he was aware of – just for good measure.

Outwardly, he gave a non-committal grunt.

"I'm really happy that you get along so well. It's good for him."

Another non-committal grunt.

"It's great to see him with an older-brother figure – there's a lot of oestrogen in this house, you know."

Non-committal grunt.

"And he really values the time you spend with him."

Grunt.

"Inuyasha!"

His head snapped up at the shrieking of his name as he reflexively reached for Tessaiga, glancing around for the enemy. Usually, when Kagome used his name to demonstrate her ability to reach inhumanly high decibels, it meant there was some sort of imminent danger in the area. Apparently, this time it just meant she was peeved at his lack of participation in the conversation. He figured it was high time he gave her a talking-to about the merits of detail.

"It's alright, Kagome-chan," Mama assured her, playing peacemaker. The inflection, the gentleness, all of it echoed in Inuyasha's heart, terribly familiar – he shivered slightly.

"Mother, please. Inuyasha, be nice," Kagome said decisively, as if this simple set of instructions could smooth over any and all social catastrophes. Oddly enough, it usually did, when Kagome was concerned.

"Keh," Inuyasha snorted.

"It's fine. I'm sure you've both had some tiring adventures, so why don't you both relax a little bit?" Higurashi continued, unfazed.

"Hanyou _don't_ relax – they don't get that privilege," he sneered before he could stop himself. The female pair heard the bitterness in his voice, saw straight through the rough grain in his voice, and adopted twin looks of compassion and sadness. In Kagome, it was just familiar. In Mama Higurashi, however – "_Mama, what's a 'Hanyou'?"_ – it was too close to the heart. He nearly choked on his last bite of food, for a moment seeing the woman with those sad eyes framed by long, cascading hair.

"Inuyasha… are you alright?" Kagome asked, genuine worry colouring her tone.

"Fine," he squeaked.

"Are you sure? Would you like some water?" Mama asked, beginning to hover over a child that was not hers (in this life, at least).

"I'm _fine_," he ground.

"It's no trouble."

"Really. Fine."

"Oh, I'll just grab some for you, really—"

"_Mother_, it's—"

And all conversation stopped. There was a moment of tense silence, during which Mama – who was halfway out of her seat – slowly lowered herself back down and calmly picked up her chopsticks.

"…what did you say?" Kagome asked softly.

"I said '_don't bother'_," Inuyasha replied, then promptly began to shovel food into his mouth, signalling the end of his participation in this nightmare of a dinner conversation.

Not another word was spoken, even as the dishes were cleared.

Of course, Kagome would choose this night, of all nights, to become a little more… _physical._ Inuyasha suspected that maybe her grandfather had slipped a little bit of sake in her drink (he was prone to senility, after all), but in reality, she just thought she might be getting fat, and reassurance in the form of returned sexual attention would be nice. Screw Kikyou. Kikyou didn't work damn near as hard for Inuyasha as she had – didn't she deserve a stolen kiss now and then?

Inuyasha, on the other hand, was doing his best to keep her hands off and away. He kept thinking about his little slip, about his mother, and about how it seemed more and more likely that in some twisted way Kagome was his little sister – and little sisters should _not_ be sliding their hands that far up their brother's thigh.

She perched herself on the bed and patted the spot beside her, giving him a mischievous little grin.

"Have a seat, Inuyasha," she coaxed. He had his hands stuffed fully in his sleeves, a scowl on his face, and a desperate sort of twitch in the corner of his eye. His response was to plop on the floor nearby, so as to avoid offending her, yet stay out of reach. It was a brilliant evasive tactic – or at least he thought so, until her dismayed frown melted away and she leaned forward to snatch a lock of his hair.

He grabbed her wrist and pulled her hand away with a snarl, losing more than a few hairs in the process.

Well, that just killed the mood. With a frown, Kagome stood, planting her hands firmly on her hips.

"What is _with_ you?" she demanded.

"Maybe I just don't want your sticky fingers in my hair, okay?" he snapped back. Storm clouds gathered on her brow, leading him to worry over his choice of words. Leaning in closer, her eye twitched and she gave him the worst glare she could manage.

"This… is about _Kikyou_, isn't it?" she hissed.

"You know, not _everything_ is about Kikyou," he spat back, rolling his eyes. Never mind the fact that, up until that first time Higurashi-san had smiled just like his mother and told him she thought silver was an oddly attractive hair colour for a man, it really _was_ all about Kikyou.

"Right. Then what is your _problem_? Oh, it's me, right? I'm not good enough – just your shard detector," she ranted, tears springing to her eyes. He cringed – he _hated_ to see women cry. As if she was 'just his shard detector' – honestly, he'd said that, what, once? Twice? Way back, and since then, hadn't he proved it to be otherwise? Honestly, women could hold the worst grudges. Look at Kikyou.

"Wha—stop that! That's not it!" he snapped.

"Then _what_? I'm fat, aren't I? Oooh, I knew it!"

He wasn't sure where she'd gotten the 'fat' thing from, but basic male instincts told him he had to stay the hell away from that subject matter.

"It's not that! It's not you at all!" he cried.

"It's you, then?" she queried.

"What? No! There's nothing wrong with me."

"Then what?"

A good half an hour later (filled with threats, cursing, and many a 'sit' command) Kagome finally got a small, three-word admission from the stubborn boy.

"It's your mother."

"My… mom."

For one terrifying moment, Kagome thought maybe Inuyasha had a thing for her mom, and not only would she have to compete with her former incarnation for his affections, but her own _mother_ as well. Then she thought, 'ewwwww…'

"Wait… you like… my mom? Like… _that way_?" she stammered. His expression soon matched her own horrified, disgusted one.

"_Hell_ no!" he cried.

"Then what do you mean?"

He looked away, fixing his gaze on some sugary happy pink bunny thing. It was sort of terrifying, actually… he wondered, for a moment, what would happen to Naraku if ever faced with such a fluffy thing. The wicked hanyou might spontaneously combust. It was worth a shot – he'd have to try it sometime.

"It's just… your mother… is like _my_ mother," he finally ground out.

"My mom… reminds you of _your_ mom," she repeated, deadpan. He ducked his head, cursing stupid jewels and their stupid curses and the stupid girls that protected them.

"In the same way _you_ remind me of _Kikyou_."

She almost got angry – _almost_ – after all, anger was an automatic response whenever 'Kikyou' or something similar was mentioned (once, a mispronunciation of the English word 'kiwi' by one of her friends almost ended in tragedy). Then, the words sunk in.

"Remind you of… oh. _Oh_. Oh! But that's just… that's _weird_. And that would make her… and that would make _you_… and… that would make _us…_"

He sighed, letting her work it out for herself. The crickets chirped outside, somewhere some teen yelled something obnoxious to one of his friends, and Inuyasha figured that destiny _really_ must have it out for him.

"So…" she said, shifting uncomfortably. She was taking this rather well.

"Yeah…" he answered, fingering Tessaiga's hilt.

"Um… you wanna play a game of Parcheesi?"

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_owari!_

Eo: Um... yeah... -_runs away_-


End file.
